Chapter 114: Monopoly

Within the capital of a million people were scattered dozens of salt shops large and small, nearly all of them backed by nobles and officialdom.

In the rear warehouse of a salt shop in the Eastern City, Zheng Laowu, the outer steward of the Duke of Cheng's manor, was directing the shop's clerks at their labor.

The Duke of Cheng's manor had not taken part in this salt merchants' assembly. Though the Embroidered Uniform Guard had sent invitations to the manor's salt shops as well, Zheng Laowu had tossed them into a corner upon receipt.

A grand ducal manor — the Zhu family, which had all but become the leader of the nobility — when had it ever needed to heed the Embroidered Uniform Guard's assignments? I'll sell whose salt I damn well please; must it come through your Embroidered Uniform Guard's channels? What the hell is the Embroidered Uniform Guard anyway?

Zheng Laowu spoke for the views of a small portion of the capital's salt shop owners. Most were stewards of ducal or marquis manors with powerful backing, who normally kept to their own affairs with the Embroidered Uniform Guard and thought nothing of its recent rise. Theirs were great houses that would endure as long as the state itself; if the Embroidered Uniform Guard had the Emperor's ear, their own masters likewise enjoyed face before the Emperor.

The remaining salt shops with civil official backing — such as those run by distant relatives of the Prefect of Shuntian — had, upon their masters' instructions, purchased the snow-white new salt with ready silver. In truth, even had their masters not ordered it, whether in appearance, taste, or cost, the new salt far surpassed the original bitter, coarse Huai salt. Though without salt certificates it was nearly private salt, a man who could afford to run a salt shop need hardly fear officials investigating private salt, did he?

Zheng Laowu had the clerks mix sand into the salt brought in from the Lianghuai salt works. By custom, salt shops operated in assigned districts; the Duke of Cheng's manor's three shops all stood in the Eastern City. The capital had a saying — the east is rich, the west noble, the south poor, the north base — describing the rough distribution of its populace. The Eastern City teemed with gentry and great merchants, making it the simplest place to do business and turn a profit.

Take salt for instance: the great households here often numbered a hundred or even several hundred mouths, and each purchase ran to several dan. Unlike the poor wretches of the Southern and Northern Cities, who bought a few jin at a time — how could one do business and make money off those base bones? How else could one's master have amassed a fortune of a million in just a few generations?

Relying on its power and influence, the Duke of Cheng's manor had secured three of the Eastern City's five salt shops, giving the other two to the Marquis of Xiangcheng's manor — for were not the two masters as close as one man?

Because of its monopoly on the Eastern City salt market, and despite profits already being extremely high, Zheng Laowu remained unsatisfied; he wanted to turn over even more silver to the ducal manor. First, to win the Duke's pleasure and improve his chances of promotion; second, he had long coveted Xiliu, the maidservant of the Duke's seventh concubine — the more silver he turned over, the more he could embezzle on the side, and once he could produce five hundred taels for the Seventh Lady, Xiliu would become his own concubine. At the thought of Xiliu's snow-white skin and soft, supple waist, Zheng Laowu's heart burned hot at once.

Approaching noon, the clerks finally finished mixing more than a dozen dan of sand into several hundred dan of salt, while Zheng Laowu supervised from the side, sipping tea. When the clerks were done, Zheng Laowu went into the shop front, where a clerk was dozing. Zheng Laowu gave a loud, disapproving cough; the clerk started, woke from his nap, and upon seeing Zheng Laowu, hastily bowed.

Zheng Laowu looked around, then drawled in a scolding tone: "Dozing off in broad daylight — if a thief slipped in and stole the silver, you wouldn't even know it! Do that again and I'll report you to the chief steward and have you dismissed!"

The clerk was thoroughly frightened. Working in a salt shop, though the monthly wage was only a few qian, included a meal at noon, and the work was light. The big customers mostly came once every half month and bought several dan at a time. A few clerks had only to load the salt onto the cart, and that was that — once it was hauled back to the household, their own servants handled the unloading. He himself had pulled strings through several layers of connections to find a steward of the ducal manor and secure this fine post; if he lost it over dozing off, his parents would beat him to death when he got home.

The clerk hastily knelt, swearing oaths that he would never do it again, and only then did Zheng Laowu snort and let him rise.

Zheng Laowu sat in the shop's chair and asked next: "How much did we take in today? If it matches last month's figures, the Duke will be overjoyed! And then there may well be rewards handed out!"

The clerk lowered his head and mumbled; Zheng Laowu snapped angrily: "Worthless thing! Speak up!"

The clerk mustered his courage, raised his head, and said: "To answer Steward Zheng, we haven't opened for business at all this morning!"

Zheng Laowu was taken aback, then stared wide-eyed and pressed: "Haven't opened? Are you telling the truth or not? That's impossible!"

The clerk replied: "I'm telling the truth! Not just today — we didn't open at all yesterday either!"

Zheng Laowu shot up from his chair and demanded urgently: "Not a single grain of salt sold all day yesterday? Why is that?"

The clerk nodded hastily: "If Steward Zheng doesn't believe me, ask the others! We don't know why either!"

Zheng Laowu reacted quickly. He called out to the several clerks in the rear courtyard and sent them separately to the other two shops and to the Marquis of Xiangcheng's shops, to see whether the situation was similar in each place.

Sure enough, as the clerks returned one by one, none brought good news: the ducal manor's and the Marquis of Xiangcheng's salt shops had all sold not a single grain of salt since yesterday — not only had the regular customers failed to come, but not a single walk-in customer had appeared either.

Zheng Laowu could no longer sit still. He hurried into his carriage and rushed back to the manor — this was no good omen, and he had to report it to the chief steward at once.

Hearing Zheng Laowu's report, the ducal manor's chief steward, Zhu Gui, was also startled. He was a house-born servant of the ducal manor, his ancestors having sold themselves into the Duke of Cheng's household generations ago. He had grown up alongside Zhu Chunchen, and being clever and studious, steady and dependable in conduct, he had won Zhu Chunchen's deep favor. Zhu Chunchen had promoted him step by step from personal attendant to steward of the outer household, and when the previous duke passed and Zhu Chunchen became the new Duke of Cheng, he raised him to the post of chief steward of the ducal manor.

The Duke of Cheng's manor housed more than three hundred souls in all — stewards, servants, maids, cooks, coachmen, and guards numbering over two hundred, not even counting the shopkeepers, clerks, and escorts who handled business outside.

He had to manage food, clothing, shelter, and transport for so many people — their every need — while also coordinating the manor's various relationships and handling certain private matters the Duke entrusted to him. Zhu Gui worked from dawn till dusk, never a day of rest.

Precisely because of this, Zhu Gui's authority was immense, and with Zhu Chunchen's trust, within the ducal manor his standing was considerable — second only to the Zhu family's own masters, great and small.

Even Zhu Chunchen's several concubines had to curry favor with Chief Steward Zhu in their daily affairs. Zhu Gui controlled the household's personnel and finances, including the monthly allowances and daily expenses of Zhu Chunchen's concubines. Should one carelessly offend him, a word from his lips would see that month's allowance docked on some pretext, and daily spending cut off outright.

After such incidents occurred a few times, everyone in the ducal manor had learned Chief Steward Zhu's methods, and from then on no one dared stroke the tiger's whiskers. All who met Zhu Gui in the manor treated him with utmost deference — even more than they showed Zhu Chunchen himself.

Zhu Gui had finally found a moment today to rest in his room, but Zheng Laowu's report made him unable to sit still.

Salt was a fairly important source of income for the ducal manor. Not because the revenue was so great, but because of the stability of salt sales. The three Eastern City shops brought in tens of thousands of taels each year — money that was practically free for the taking. The three shops needed fewer than ten clerks and a single steward; what other business could yield such high profits?

He asked: "This is rather odd. Had any word of it reached you beforehand?"

Zheng Laowu hesitated for some time before bowing and replying: "To answer the chief steward, a few days ago the Embroidered Uniform Guard sent invitations to the salt shops, saying they were holding some assembly at Jingchun Tower to sell fine top-grade salt. I feared it would cost our ducal manor face, so I didn't go! Could it have something to do with this?"

Zhu Gui frowned and asked: "The Embroidered Uniform Guard sent invitations to sell salt? What exactly is going on?"

Zheng Laowu kept his head low and replied: "I don't know the details, sir. Steward Li of the Marquis of Xiangcheng's manor didn't go either!"

Zhu Gui gave an order: "Someone! Ride to the nearby salt shops and investigate — see what the situation is!"

A servant outside answered and left. Zhu Gui sat in his chair, eyes slightly closed, silent.

Zheng Laowu was drenched in sweat, his heart filled with chagrin.

On the ride back to the manor he had already figured it out — this was almost certainly connected to the new salt.

If that were truly so, then he had failed in his duty. Though he had ample justification and had not cost the ducal manor face, he feared the impact on the salt shops' business — that would be no small crime. Then never mind Xiliu; whether he could even keep his steward's post was an open question.

A quarter of an hour later, the servant sent to investigate returned. Entering the room, he bowed and reported: "To report to the chief steward, I looked at several salt shops in the Western City. There were many people buying salt, and what they were selling was fine top-grade salt white as snow, at two qian four fen of silver per jin! One shop had already sold out!"